


In My Darkest Hour

by Sealers100



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Graphic Description, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, mentions of systematic executions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 16:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17881235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sealers100/pseuds/Sealers100
Summary: “Am I losing my mind?” he whispered.“No.” She took his hand and kissed his tender palm.“You’re grieving, and I’ll be here for you as long as you need me."





	In My Darkest Hour

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Descriptions of Self Harm, suicidal thoughts, panic attacks.  
> constructive criticism always welcome especially with triggering content.  
> I'm a lazy editor so if something is wrong don't be afraid to correct me.

Damar was despondent. The major’s words rang in his ears. ‘Yeah Damar. What kind of people.’ Was this a cruel revenge for the horrors of the occupation, that every Cardassian father must lose their wife and child; or was this simply collateral damage. It didn’t matter, in the end it all came back to him. This was his undoing.  
He smashed the PADD into the desk, breaking the glass screen. Damar felt himself beginning to unhinge. He hadn’t seen his wife in almost a year, and their relationship had been strained for some years. He knew she wouldn’t understand why he was deeply opposed to the Dominion, let alone why he defected. He knew deffecting meant the possibility of never seeing her again. But his son...not his son. He was only a boy, he didn’t understand this war. He didn’t understand why his father was away. Part of Damar’s plan was to go back for him and bring him to the station before the infighting began but, he was too late. Another innocent life, lost at his hands. His heart was in pieces, broken and bleeding. Damar had to leave before he lost his composure. He stormed out from Odo’s office and returned to his quarters, craving another glass of Kanar to dull the pain.  
Pouring himself his third glass. Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he saw a broken, defeated old man with blood on his hands that was not his own. He hated the man on the other side. The man had caused the systematic execution his wife and son and murdered Ziyal in cold blood. Angry, he threw his glass at the other man, killing the reflection, and his last glass of Kanar.  
Damar fell to the floor in tears. He screamed and bashed his fist against the broken glass. The cuts in his skin felt as if it wasn’t his own, like he was no longer inside himself, but outside, watching. Picking up a large shard in his hand, he could see he there was no man on the other side, only himself. He gripped the glass tighter. Cutting his palm deeper, he watched the blood pool and drip to the floor. But no matter how tightly he held on, or how deeply he cut, the pain was never enough for him to feel. The shard was large, and more than sharp enough, more than enough….he could...if he just….  
He couldn’t. Damar’s mind was forced back into his body, leaving him breathless. He dropped the shard. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t want this, any of this. He felt his breaths growing shorter, catching themselves in his throat. Tears filled his eyes and panic overtook him. He couldn’t do this to himself, even if he felt it was what he deserved.  
Damar rushed to his feet and into the bathroom. He ran his hand under cool water to wash away the blood, but the sense of pain had come back to him, sending him crashing to the floor. Damar reached above himself for a towel to wrap his hand. He frantically tied the small towel around his hand to stop the bleeding. He began to cry. ‘Not like this!’ He thought. ‘Please don’t let me die, I can’t die like this.’ HIs cries grew louder as the pain became unbearable. He had to get help but he couldn’t let himself be seen like this...could he?  
Damar pulled himself to his feet, and dragged his drunken body out of his quarters.  
Major Kira was in her quarters, preparing herself for bed. She had just changed into her nightgown after having a shower when her door chime began to sing repeatedly. She went to answer, unaware of what was behind.  
Damar stood in her doorway, disheveled and defeated. His rag was soaked with blood which began to leak onto the floor. Kira was horrified.  
“Oh...prophets, Damar what happened to you?”  
He looked up to her with tears in his eyes, not saying a word. She pulled him inside and set him down on the sofa in her room.  
“I have to call Julian.” Damar tried to rise to his feet but stumbled.  
“No...Nerys please.” What he said was the first time he had ever struck fear in her heart.  
“Help me…”  
She ran to her bathroom pulling out towels and and medical equipment. I knew somewhat of how these instruments worked but she was frantic.  
She pulled Damar’s wounded hand to her, untying the blood soaked towel. Damar winced in pain and a tear streamed down his cheek. The cut ran deep through his fingers and across the center of his palm. She slowly wiped the wound clean with a damp cloth. She held onto his other hand for him to grip through the pain. His breathing was fast and she could feel his racing pulse through his hand. Kira wondered if he was having a panic attack. Could Cardassians even have panic attacks? She forgets how passionate their species can be behind their gray, authoritative masks. She took a small circular device to his hand. Glowing and humming, the device seemed to almost erase the bleeding wound. Damar’s breathing slowed and turned to deep, heavy sighs. He loosened his grip on her other hand but never letting go. She stopped the bleeding and regenerated most of the skin but the pain still lingered. She laid the damp cloth over his hand, to cool the heat of his wound.  
Nerys sat down beside him, but never let go of his hand.  
“Damar...what happened.” Her voice stayed at a low whisper when she spoke. She didn’t want him to start to panic again if she raised her voice.  
“Did...did you do this to yourself?” It was a moment before he responded. He shook his head and began to cry. He ripped his hand away to cover his face. He tried not to let it out but his body was so tired, he couldn’t fight it anymore. Damar let himself be taken into her arms. Nerys took him into her embrace and he buried his head in her chest. Finally feeling safe and out of harm’s way, Damar let out all the pain he had built inside. His body racked with sobs.  
“I’m sorry..” He whispered to her.  
“Damar no. You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who should be sorry, I never should have said what I did.”  
“No, I killed them. I’ve killed so many people.”  
“Damar this wasn’t your fault don’t blame yourself for this.” Damar tore away from her and quickly rose to his feet.  
“Don’t you understand? They killed her and my son! I had them executed becasue I chose to defect; I killed Ziyal because I was blinded by ignorance and my loyalty to that bastard!” Damar’s voice turned from a whisper to a scream in a matter of moments.  
She didn’t know what to say. She was in shock. Damar had lost his family, and his home. He truly had nothing left in this world but himself, which he loathed. Nerys understood better than anyone how destitute he felt.  
“They’re all dead because of me! Do you know how hard it is to walk along the promenade and see Klingons knowing I probably killed one of their brothers or sisters? Do you know how many of them died not knowing who fired upon them? Do you know the number of human I killed? I don’t! I don’t know if I ever will!” Damar was now inches away from her face, and she could smell the alcohol on his breath.  
“Do you know how many nights I cry myself to sleep thinking of Ziyal?” Damar fell to his knees in front of her.  
“Damar, I miss her too.” While he screamed, her voice never grew above a whisper. It was her way. She struggled to fight back her own tears when he spoke of her. She knew how horrible his actions with the Dominion were but seeing him, or anyone, in such a state of distress, reminded her of herself and how she needed someone in her darkest hours, but had no one.  
“You can’t blame yourself for every life lost in this war. I know it’s not fair, but this isn’t about right and wrong and it never was. You can’t change the past, no matter how hard you try. Nothing can bring them back. Not your wife, your son, or Ziyal. The only thing that can bring you peace if to forgive yourself.” Nerys stroked his hair back behind his ears and took his hands into hers.  
“I know it’s easier said than done, and it’s going to take time. You can’t change who you where in the past but Damar please, you can let it go.” The idea of forgiveness seemed almost foreign to him. Why should he forgive himself, he was a murderer and a defector. He had betrayed his people and caused the execution of his wife and child. Damar didn’t know if he could ever forgive himself.  
Damar shook his head, “I can’t, I can’t you don’t understand.”  
“Maybe not your past self, but who you are from this moment on. Can you forgive him?”  
Damar’s head cleared momentarily. It was a valid question. Would the man tomorrow be different from the man right now, or yesterday? Could he really have that kind of control? Nerys had the ability to ask question that tested what you believe. He found it easy to confide in her. Even if she was a Bajoran, he still trusted her. She still understood the feeling of grief and losing control.   
“Am I losing my mind?” Damar’s whisper began to crack under the pressure.  
“No.” She took his hand and kissed his tender palm. “You’re grieving, and I’ll be here for you as long as you need me.” Nerys never thought she could have feelings like this for someone like him. He embodied everything she hated about Cardassians, everything she hates about herself, and everything she admired in a strong leader. A Cardassian would never show this side of themselves to anyone, especially not a Bajoran. She saw a vulnerable, broken man and wanted to comfort him nonetheless, Cardassian or not.   
Damar rested his head in her lap for a moment.  
“I’m so tired Nerys,”  
“I know.” She pulled him onto the sofa and removed his boots and upper uniform. She walked away for a moment and returned with a light, quilted blanket. She laid it over top of him and knelt down at his side. She slowly pet the top of his head, quietly hushing him as he drifted in and out of an intoxicated consciousness.  
“Please promise me you’ll never hurt yourself again.”   
“I thought you of all people would have wanted me dead.”   
His words felt like tearing open an old wound. Tears made their way to the surface. He didn’t know how wrong he was. She wanted to tell him but he had already fallen to sleep.   
Kira wanted to be wrong, she wanted a reason to hate him and she had plenty, but every time he laughed, smiled, or even cried, it only reminded her of how compassionate his people were, even if it didn’t show during the occupation. She was beyond conflicted and only felt her heart growing more and more fond of him. Tonight showed her all she needed to know. If he felt safe enough to come to her in his darkest hour, then she wondered how he must have felt before.   
That night, Nerys slept her chair, keeping watch of him all through the night. She debated calling Julian but she was also exhausted. She would tell him in the morning.


End file.
